A Wing and a Prayer
by Rainbow.Fright
Summary: A Castiel/reader oneshot for my friend catstiel99. Castiel finds a stressed and exhausted reader and helps them feel better. I don't own anything.


When you and the boys got back from your hunt, you shuffled indoors feeling like your entire body was made of lead. You were exhausted and emotionally drained, and the fact that Sam and Dean had been bickering almost the entire way back really wasn't helping things much. The week had been hard for you. Besides the fact that the case had been long and hellish, leading to the deaths of several decent, innocent people before you got around to figuring out what it was that was killing them, you hadn't seen Cas in ages. You hadn't been entirely certain why he was the one you wanted to talk to when you were stressed or uncertain, but it was easier to talk to him than Sam or Dean; after all, they had plenty of other things to worry about and even though you'd take a bullet for either of them, they weren't always the best at feelings. Cas wasn't necessarily an expert on the subject either, but the way he listened quietly without making you feel judged was very soothing, and the two of you had grown very close.

You'd been praying to him every couple nights since he left but he never answered. You weren't exactly surprised-there was a _war_ going on in heaven after all-but that didn't ease the sting much.

Once inside the crappy hotel room, you leaned heavily against the door, not entirely sure your legs would hold you up just then. What you needed was a hot shower and one of the burgers that Sam was sure to pick up in a little while. He might be fighting with Dean, but that didn't change the fact that it was his turn to pick up dinner. But what you wanted was to bury your face in a particular angel's trenchcoat and hide from the world, just for a little while.

You slid slowly down the door, coming to rest on the scratchy carpet and burying your face in your hands. Your throat burned and your chest ached, and now wasn't the time to start crying, but no matter how many times you told yourself that it didn't stop tears from making tracks down your face. You let out a huge breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, and curled into as small a ball as you could manage as you rocked with the sobs that were trying to shake you apart.

You didn't hear the soft sound of ruffling feathers and didn't realize you weren't alone in the room until you felt a hand softly on your shoulder. You startled and looked up, finding the concerned blue eyes of a familiar face that you weren't sure if you were happy to see or not.

"Cas." The name came out of your mouth no louder than a whisper, almost more of an exhale than a word at all. He didn't say anything, just moved his thumb to rub a small circle on the shoulder he was touching. You wiped your eyes on the edge of your sleeve, trying to look a little less pathetic in that moment. "I prayed to you." It wasn't a complaint or an accusation, but you didn't know how else to express how abandoned you'd felt.

He nodded, bowing his head for a moment where he knelt in front of you. "I know." He said, voice low and calm. "And I am sorry."

You knew that there were probably a thousand good reasons for him to have been too busy to come help you, but you appreciated that he didn't try to use any of them to excuse himself. At the same time, the fact that he seemed to think you important enough to _apologize_ to you made you feel a little embarrassed, and you ducked your head back to your knees, letting out the sob you'd been holding in while trying make some kind of coherent conversation. You'd pretty much given up on that idea.

You heard the angel exhale sharply, and the hand on your shoulder moved to wrap around the top of your back. He tugged you gently closer and you didn't resist, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. A minute passed, him just holding you while you cried, and then you sat up and tried to wipe your face on your sleeve to make yourself look a bit more presentable before you spoke. "Sorry." You said, still not meeting his eyes.

He cut you off before you could continue, seeming to know what you were thinking before you said it aloud. "You are not weak simply because your heart feels so heavy." He murmured, lips almost touching your hair.

That was the statement that stopped you in your tracks, and you relaxed against his chest until your sobs dissolved to sniffles. He tipped your face toward him, then, and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He gave you a soft smile that you tried your hardest to return, and helped you up off the floor. He was still holding you, seeming hesitant to let you go, and moved your hair away from your face with one warm hand. "I must go." He said. You didn't miss the reluctance to leave you in his tone. "But I will be back when I can. I promise." He said, watching your eyes as if waiting for some signal that you understood how serious he was. You nodded, and he seemed a little relieved. He pressed his lips gently to your forehead before vanishing in a faint sound of wingbeats just as there was a knock on the door.

"[y/n]?" It was Sam's voice on the other side. "I brought dinner."


End file.
